Steven G. Elliott

Steven Elliott, age 73, of Somerville, passed away on Thursday, November 27, at his home.

He was born in Somerville on April 20, 1952, and was the son of the late George and Frances (Stanford) Elliott. Since he was born with an intellectual disability, Steve attended special classes in school only till he reached the age of 16. He then worked in the kitchen at the Guardian Hospital in East Cambridge, where his mother worked as a nurse. When she changed jobs to Somerville Hospital, Steve changed as well to work at the Little Sisters of the Poor on Highland Ave. in Somerville, where he worked as a dishwasher for over 40 years. The nuns who ran this home for the elderly loved Steve, as did his coworkers, and were always most kind and friendly to him.

Steve’s dad loved sports and passed that love onto Steve and his brothers. The three of them and other neighborhood kids played football in the street and basketball and street hockey in the back yard (with Steve usually playing goalie). Steve loved the Red Sox and rarely missed a game as a kid, listening on the radio or watching on TV. The Celtics, Bruins and Patriots were passions as well. He also loved candlepin bowling and was in several leagues as an adult. To beat Steve’s score was quite an accomplishment.

Steve was a big Three Stooges fan, and he, his dad and his brothers shared many laughs watching them on TV, a type of humor his mom and sisters never quite grasped. He loved the old shows from the 60s and 70s and watched the reruns his whole life. And he loved listening to his Mitch Miller and John Denver albums on his portable record player.

Steve was also a member of the Walnut Street Center for Intellectually Disabled Adults, a wonderful organization which provided him with many opportunities to socialize with other adults with similar disabilities. He was part of these events right up until a few years ago when his health prevented it. He also participated in many events with the Special Olympics, another wonderful organization, which brought him so much happiness.

Steve’s mother and father were extremely devoted to him and he brought much joy to their lives. They never treated him any differently than their other children. In fact, his whole family, aunts, uncles, cousins, etc., were always kind and accepting of him, always joking with him about sports and teasing him about the Red Sox if they happened to be in a down year. Steve was very lucky to have been born into such a family, and they brought much pleasure to him, and he did the same for them.

Steve’s dad died when Steve was 25 and his mom when he was 37, and since that time his sister Susan, who is a nurse, was his primary caretaker, and she exceled in the role. She was always kind and nurturing and included him in almost everything she did. When he became ill four years ago, she was basically his private nurse for the entire time, taking excellent care of him, taking him to all his appointments, of which there were many, and she always said he couldn’t have been a better patient.

Steve loved the role of uncle to his nieces and nephews. It made him feel special to hold them, carry them around, play games with them, etc. They loved him so much and enjoyed his attention. It was a highlight of his life to be an uncle.

Steve was the nicest man his family ever knew. He never had a negative word to say about anyone. He was such a happy person, even when things weren’t going well. He loved it when anyone would start a conversation with him, kid around with him and tease good naturedly. He would help anyone with anything anytime. He was a wonderful man and his family will miss him and never forget him.

He was the beloved brother of Susan Elliott of Somerville, James Elliott and his wife Elizabeth of Wakefield, Kathy Elliott of Pennsylvania, and Kevin Elliott and his wife Donna of Leonardtown, Maryland. He was the loving uncle of Charles, Carolina, Jacalyn, Kevin, Michelle, Abigail and Jason.

In lieu of flowers, donations may be made to the Special Olympics and/or the American Cancer Society.